


In Search of Your Glory

by emj1s



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angry Sex, Blowjobs, Boxer!Bucky, Locker Room, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Semi-Public Sex, Shrunkyclunks, cap!steve - Freeform, face fucking, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-01 22:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20265430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emj1s/pseuds/emj1s
Summary: “C’mon,” Bucky says. “Stop thinking. This doesn’t gotta mean anything.”“I’m Steve,” Steve says.“That’s nice,” Bucky says, and kisses him.





	In Search of Your Glory

The kid’s small, compact.

He can throw a punch, that’s for sure, slamming his fist into the bag, glove bouncing off the coarse weave and making it sway a little bit, following it up with a blow from his left. He swings a little wide, but the look on his face makes it clear he isn’t going for technique; he’s angry, murderously so, and Steve can just tell he’s here punching a bag so he doesn’t send his fist into someone’s face instead. 

It’s a feeling Steve is intimately familiar with. 

He watches for a while, taping his own hands up, weaving the wrap through his fingers slowly, taking care to not get it twisted. The kid’s obviously been here for a hot minute. He’s dripping sweat, the light grey of his tank stained darker on the sides and down the middle of his back. His hair’s wet, grown just shy of too long, flipping up in the back in an attempt at a curl, and as Steve watches, sweat drips down from a lock stuck to his forehead to run down his nose. The kid doesn’t even seem to notice, too busy grunting with every blow, slamming his fists rapidfire, _ onetwothree _ , adjust, _ onetwo _ , adjust, _ onetwothreefour _, adjust, like a rhythm that only he can hear.

He’s pretty, in spite of the sweat and what Steve is sure would be a strong smell if he were to get close enough to him. Full pink lips are curled into a snarl, bitten red at the corners like he’s worried at them all day before he could make it here. He’s flushed red from exertion, but he’s got a look about him, like he’s pale from Brooklyn winter and his skin’s just been itching to spend some time on the beach, or take a girl out to Coney Island for a few hours, sweet talk her into letting him slide his hand up her skirt. He looks the type. 

His eyes are intense, focused - too dark for Steve to make out the color, especially with the distance he’s carefully keeping. He finds himself wanting to move closer, curl a hand in that wet hair and tug it back until that pretty mouth falls open and he can see exactly what color those eyes are when they pop wide. He mentally shakes himself; it’s not the time or the place, and the guy clearly isn’t in the mood. Besides, he should probably find out his name before walking up and grabbing him, no matter how sweet the idea sounds.

Steve forgets, sometimes, that not everyone can keep up as long as he can, so when the kid’s punches start to slow it’s a bit of a surprise. He’s clearly still worked up, and after one last solid punch he takes a few light steps back, bounces on the balls of his feet, and then finally goes still, letting his head fall back as he shakes his arms out. He’s panting, strong but small shoulders rising and falling with every breath, and he groans, pulling off his gloves swiftly and throwing them on top of a nearby duffel. He starts to unwrap his hands, and that’s when Steve tries to look away, act like he wasn’t staring at the kid.

It’s useless; the stranger wasn’t as sucked into his workout as he seemed, apparently, because he grabs his water bottle, chugs half, and looks directly at Steve while he wipes his mouth on the back of his arm. He doesn’t look shocked that there are eyes on him, and Steve just stills, then smiles sheepishly; there’s no getting out of this. He waves his left hand, all taped up, in a slightly awkward greeting, but the kid doesn’t return it, just stares at Steve, head tilted slightly to the side. He nods, but not towards Steve, to himself, as if coming to a conclusion. He grabs the strap of his duffel and drops his water bottle into it, gloves resting atop, and tosses it over his shoulder before heading to the locker room.

He casts an expectant look at Steve. “We doin’ this or what?” he asks, voice rough, tired, and Steve jolts. The kid can’t really mean - they haven’t even - does he even know who Steve is - does he care--

The way the stranger just raises an unimpressed eyebrow and then has the audacity to _ roll his eyes _ before he even gets to the door makes Steve snap back into reality. Annoyance curls in his chest, but something completely different curls low in his stomach, and so he follows the kid into the locker room. 

“I feel like I should at least know your name,” Steve says as the locker room door swings shut behind him. It closes with a heavy _ clunk, _all thick metal and heavy locks. There’s no way to lock it from the inside, but it’s late enough that he’s fairly sure they’re the only two people here. Nonetheless, he can’t help but look warily around the locker room for prying eyes. 

“Why?” the stranger asks, not even bothering to turn around as he heads for the showers. 

“Well,” Steve says. “Because.” And that’s the best he can do, apparently, because no more words come out after that. 

The stranger snorts. “Bucky,” he says. 

“That’s a nice name.” Steve tries not to look too much like a fish as he opens his mouth and closes it again in an attempt to save himself because seriously, _ that’s a nice name? _Nice, Rogers, good bedroom material. 

Bucky seems to be thinking the same thing, because he snorts as he reaches behind his neck and tugs his shirt over his shoulders. “It’s short for James,” he says, and Steve might be imagining it but he thinks there’s a hint of a smile behind the words. 

Steve opens his mouth to say _ huh, _ but Bucky’s discarded shirt hits his chest with a _ flump _and he scrambles to catch it. 

“Hurry up,” Bucky says, already tugging his workout pants down. “They start kicking people out at nine.”

“Well, gosh,” Steve says. “You don’t have to sound so enthused about it.”

“If you change your mind, you can leave.” Bucky folds his arms, finally turning to look at Steve. “But I have a feeling you won’t.” And this time it’s not just the hint of a smile. It’s a real, honest-to-god smirk that graces his lips. “I saw you watching me.” 

Steve doesn’t have anything to say to that, but Bucky doesn’t seem to care. He takes two easy steps forward and tugs his sweaty shirt out of Steve’s hands, tosses it to the floor. 

“C’mon,” Bucky says. “Stop thinking. This doesn’t gotta _ mean _anything.”

“I’m Steve,” Steve says. 

“That’s nice,” Bucky says, and kisses him. 

There’s such an odd juxtaposition between the sweat and stale shower water permeating throughout the locker room, and the sweet smell that’s either shampoo, cologne, or just _ Bucky _. Steve breathes it all in, shivering as the differing smells mix together. They’re not at odds, they complement one another. 

Steve gives a little noise of surprise as Bucky pushes his lips apart. He’s such an aggressive kisser that Steve barely has time to make room before Bucky’s tongue slides right up against his own.

This really doesn’t have to mean anything, Steve realizes as Bucky invades his space, and something flips in his brain then, hands grabbing Bucky’s hips and hauling him in closer. The other man gives a surprised sound into the kiss, then laughs against Steve’s mouth. Tension sags out of Bucky’s shoulders as his hands raise, arms winding around Steve’s neck, a hand sliding into his hair and gripping tight to give it a tug. It’s like he’s saying _ there we go, _ like he’s coaxing Steve into giving in, and as a consequence taking Steve’s own insistence that Bucky do the same. 

Bucky’s back hits the damp wall of the nearest shower cubicle, kiss breaking, and his deft hands find Steve’s shirt, tugging at it until he’s just as bare from the waist up as Bucky is. His eyes rake down Steve’s chest appreciatively, and his tongue darts over his lips before he looks back up at Steve. His hips press forward, one slim but powerful thigh slotting between Steve’s, and he rolls against the wall gently, chuckling.

“Well hey big guy,” he murmurs teasingly, and Steve only growls, dick twitching in his sweats. He doesn’t dignify the kid with a reply, instead grabbing him by his hips and hauling him closer to kiss him again.

His mouth doesn’t stay on Bucky’s for long, skating instead down to his jaw, teeth dragging and pulling a moan from the body against his. His tongue glides along Bucky’s throat, tasting sweat on his skin, feeling the rapidfire pulse hammering away there, Bucky’s breath panting and ruffling Steve’s mussed hair with every exhale. 

“Pretty,” Steve sighs, and Bucky shivers like he likes that, but pulls on Steve’s hair sharp enough to distract him from being nice. 

“Come _ on, _” Bucky grunts, urging Steve on, and soon they’ve settled into a rhythm, Bucky’s hips rolling against Steve’s, Steve’s thrusting in response. Their mouths find one another again, kissing sloppily as they pant into it, Steve having to be careful to not grip Bucky too tightly despite the pleasure rocking through him.

“Fuck,” Steve grunts, and Bucky makes a breathless sound of agreement, wriggling between the solid press of Steve until he can create just enough space to drop his gym shorts down around his thighs. Steve follows suit, shucking his sweats, and then reaches to pull his large cock free from the confines of his boxers.

“Jesus _ Christ _,” Bucky bites out, staring at where Steve’s hand is wrapped around the base, slick lips dropping open. Steve flushes, and gives a little chuckle, but the bashfulness melts away as soon as Bucky’s hand smacks Steve’s away, wrapping dry and tight around Steve’s dick and stroking solidly. 

“Buck,” he gasps out, hips jerking forwards, and Bucky just smirks, gripping Steve’s shoulder and pulling him close again to kiss him deeply. 

He’s getting bossy again, leading the kiss, and he pulls away for a moment to breathe and lift his hand from Steve’s cock, tongue dragging along his palm before he returns his hand to Steve, wet and warm and oh God, Steve can’t take this.

His own hands fumble at Bucky’s waist, and there’s the sound of tearing fabric before Bucky’s cock is in Steve’s hand. He uses the preum smeared along the head to slick the way, and Bucky gives a punched out little sound, needy and wanting as his hips follow Steve’s movement. His mouth goes slack on Steve’s for a few beats while he adjusts to the sudden pleasure, and then he’s back, biting at Steve’s lips and invading his mouth as he squeezes the other’s cock tightly, thumbing the crown. 

They both find a rhythm, hips thrusting into palms, mouths sliding messily, all tongue and teeth and carelessness, and Steve’s free hand slides up, just like he’d dreamed of earlier, curling in Bucky’s sweaty curls and jerking his head back. He gasps, red mouth dropping and pretty blue eyes popping wide open, cock twitching against Steve’s palm, and Steve gives a breathy laugh.

“There it is,” he mumbles, leaning in to bite harshly at the defined line of Bucky’s jaw, reveling in the little _ guh _ the man lets out as his teeth drag, biting and sucking marks into his skin. Bucky doesn’t even complain, long, girlish lashes fluttering closed and brow furrowing in pleasure, letting Steve take him apart. 

“Steve,” he gasps, and Steve’s world tips on its axis. 

God, but his name sounds so fucking good falling from Bucky’s mouth, swollen red lips slick as he pants, and Steve can’t help it; he leans in, bites at his swollen lower lip, tugs it with his teeth while Bucky whines, and squeezes around his cock. The hitching sound Bucky makes only urges him on, ravishing Bucky’s mouth with his own and squeezing his cock, pushing him further and further.

Bucky’s feet scramble on the slick tile, and Steve’s hand slams him against the wall, pinning him in place as his sounds get louder and louder, delicious little _ ah, ah, ah _ sounds echoing through the locker room. He’s close, Steve can just tell, and he speeds his fist up around Bucky’s cock, letting him fuck into the tight hold he’s taken on him until he feels warm wetness spill across his fingers and Bucky lets out the most beautiful moan Steve’s ever heard.

He works him through it, savoring the aborted jerks of Bucky’s hips, and when he whimpers with oversensitivity, Steve releases him, swallowing up the soft sounds he’s letting out into their kiss. He pulls back, giving the kid some time to breathe, and watches those eyes flutter back open, a breathless smile on Bucky’s face.

“Fuck,” he moans emphathetically, and Steve hums in agreement, unwrapping his hand from Bucky’s cock. Bucky’s own hand had dropped from Steve at some point, not that the man had noticed - he’d been too preoccupied with drinking in the sight of Bucky, spread against the wall, desperate, gorgeous--

His cock gives a twitch, throbbing, reminding him that he’s still very much hard, and Bucky must feel it against his thigh, because he glances down, raises an eyebrow, and turns a slow smirk up at Steve.

“You don’t have to--” Steve starts immediately, and Bucky, the little shit, rolls his eyes at him _ again. _ Steve has the thought that he’s gonna have to teach this kid some manners at some point before his brain goes entirely blank, because Bucky’s dropped to his knees in front of him and has licked a slick, wet stripe up the underside of Steve’s cock.

“Shut up,” he tells Steve, staring up at him, Steve’s cockhead resting on his lips, and the buzz of his voice makes Steve’s hips punch forward, dragging his cock over Bucky’s face. He’s about to stutter out an apology when he sees the way Bucky’s eyes flicker with the motion, brows drawing together and a soft moan leaving him.

Any response Steve might have had to that is lost when Bucky’s swollen mouth closes around his dick, lips sliding down slow, eyes turned up to stare into Steve’s. Steve grunts, hand flying down, fisting into Bucky’s hair and tugging, watching those eyes roll back before they find Steve’s again. 

Bucky sucks, tongue teasing, and Steve moans, letting his hips twitch forward. Bucky’s hands come up, pulling at Steve’s sweats until they pool around his feet instead of staying around his legs, and those clever fingers slide around the backs of Steve’s thighs, gripping and squeezing.

Bucky gives a little pull, tugging Steve closer, an obvious request, and obvious permission, and Steve doesn’t second guess it. He starts thrusting into the tight heat of Bucky’s mouth, cock rubbing teasingly along the flat of Bucky’s tongue, and the encouraging hum he gives is all the encouragement Steve needs as he begins a steady rhythm.

It doesn’t take Steve long until he’s pulling Bucky’s hair, guiding his head, pulling it forward to meet his thrusts. Bucky gives wet, desperate little sounds each time Steve’s cock sinks to the back of his throat, but he powers through, and it’s not long until he’s swallowing the whole of Steve’s dick, jaw straining, throat seizing around the length each time. He fights the urge to pull away, and allows Steve to set the pace, until he’s fucking the other’s throat roughly, using the mouth that’s wrapped around him.

Bucky holds onto his thighs tightly, nails biting into the muscle in a way that might be painful if Steve wasn’t so goddamn absorbed in the pleasure mixing with the sensation. He won’t last long, he knows it - in fact, all it really takes is a glance down, watching the way Bucky’s eyes have glazed over a little, heavy lidded, spit and precum smeared over his lips and chin, tears in his eyes as he takes and takes and _ takes it-- _

Steve’s off like a shot with a strangled groan, grabbing Bucky’s hair and shoving his cock into his mouth without a thought, feeling that tight throat work him, swallowing and struggling. He releases Bucky’s hair, and he jerks back, panting and giving a little cough.

“S-Sorry--” Steve starts, but he’s cut off by an incredulous laugh.

“Shut up,” Bucky says again, voice rough and low, and Steve fights off the interested twitch his dick wants to give at the sound. He might be able to go more than one round, but a look at Bucky, wrecked, red faced, come stained over his stomach and on his face, shows that the man is more than finished for the time being. 

Steve gives a shy little grin, offering him a hand. Bucky takes it, letting Steve heft him to his feet, wiping his face with the back of his hand. All it really does is smear the mess around, and Steve’s looking around for a shirt, a towel, something to help, when Bucky speaks up.

“I’m uh--” he starts, then clears his throat, reaching to pull his boxers up, only to pause when he sees they’re ripped around his hips. He snorts, then just shoves them down and steps out of them, leaving the clothes in a heap on the floor and looking back up at Steve. 

“I’m here every Thursday,” he tells him casually, walking towards the bench where he threw his bag down earlier. He pulls out a towel and wipes at his face, then his stomach, pulling out a clean shirt and tugging it over his head. 

Steve blinks in confusion, and watches as Bucky slowly raises an eyebrow as if he’s waiting for Steve to pick up on something.

“Okay,” Steve says with a nod, and Bucky huffs, but he’s grinning a little. 

“Next time,” he says, and Steve’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, “I’ll bring condoms.” He eyes Steve’s cock, then turns back to his bag, grabbing underwear and gym shorts and dressing quickly.

“Next time?” Steve repeats, following Bucky’s example and yanking his sweats back up over his hips, finding his shirt from where it had been tossed, and he gets a groan in reply. 

“Oh my god,” Bucky mutters, hanging his head, then turns to face Steve, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know, I’d thought you’d be quicker than this,” he accuses, and Steve’s hackles raise.

“Well excuse me for bein’ a little dumb after getting my brain sucked out through my dick--"

“A _ little _?” Bucky bites back, smirking, and Steve makes an outraged sound, but Bucky barrells on. “Christ, I thought Captain America would be used to getting his dick sucked, but looks like I have my work cut out for me.” Steve’s so floored by Bucky so plainly knowing who he is that it gets him yet another eye roll. 

“That’s me propositioning you,” Bucky says blandly, staring at Steve flatly. “In case your brain still isn’t back online.” Steve sputters, but no words come to him before Bucky’s grabbing his bag, slinging the strap over his shoulder.

He looks more relaxed, face smooth, harsh lines of anger worked out, and it’s nice to see. If all it takes to get the guy to fucking relax is a quickie in a locker room, Steve will gladly volunteer every damn Thursday til the end of time.

Bucky smiles a little, and its lost the mean edge, soft at the corners of his still swollen lips. He walks towards Steve, stopping in front of the taller man, and he leans up - he has to lean up on his toes, and it’s possibly the cutest thing Steve’s ever fucking seen, god dammit - to press a slow, lingering kiss onto Steve’s mouth.

“Next Thursday,” he tells him once they’ve pulled apart, and Steve blinks a few times, smiling back at Bucky.

“Next Thursday,” he agrees quietly, and watches as Bucky drops back down to flat feet, turning and leaving the locker room with one last glance over his shoulder.

Steve stares for a minute after he’s gone, then chuckles and shakes his head, before moving back out to the gym. He still has a workout to do, he reasons, but blue eyes and curly hair hover in his mind the whole time.

As he lays in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, he finds himself actually _ excited _ for the week ahead.

The future is amazing, he thinks, and he closes his eyes, chased to sleep by the promise of what’s to come.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is NOT part of Turn Forever Hand in Hand, just to keep from any confusion! Title from The Last of the Real Ones by Fall Out Boy. Beta'd by the amazing, wonderful, fantastic [Emmy,](http://www.marleyrose.tumblr.com) who doesn't even go here but loves me anyways. Comments and kudos are always appreciated! Come find me on [Tumblr!](http://witchyturneywrites.tumblr.com)


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